Aang's past
by RhymerII
Summary: Everybody knows the good guys won the war, and Aang and Katara kiss in the last episode. So, here's what happens afterwards, because my guess is that they must be super bored, so they're looking for some adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer; I DON'T OWN AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER**

Prologue

"Aang, where'd you put my water bending water?"

"It's, uuhhh…I dunno. Did you ask me to put it somewhere?"

"YES, Aang, I asked you to pack it up with the pots and pans."

"Oh. I didn't do that. Sorry"

Katara shoved the remaining supplies into Apa's saddlebag, silently fuming over Aang's lack of responsibility. Aang continued preparing Apa for flight, lost in his imagination, and furthermore, completely ignorant to the glares Katara shot his way.

Only a year ago were they in this very desert, but at that time they had been desperate for water, shelter, and time to teach Aang the basics of earthbending. Now, of course, the only thing they were desperate for was adventure.

"I FOUND IT," called a voice from atop a sand dune far away. Aang and Katara looked up to see Sokka and Suki approaching them with a brittle-looking plant gathered in their arms.

"We got it, now the witch lady can do some voodoo on us," Sokka said proudly.

"Sokka, what did I tell you? She's not a witch, she's a fortune teller," Katara replied, exasperated. Aang rolled his eyes, removing his shirt from his sweat-soaked body.

"All right, everybody, Apa's not feeling too well, so keep it down back there," Aang warned, hopping onto his spot on Apa's neck. Apa let out an over-exaggerated groan.

Sokka , Suki, Toph, Katara, and Zuko climbed into the saddle. Once seated comfortably, the crew took off into the burning, orange sky.

While everyone else stretched out peacefully, Aang grew concerned. This woman they were seeing was going to the plant to cast a "spell" and reveal the children's secrets, pasts, and futures. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, as if he should be concerned about his results. Glancing behind him, he tried to reassure himself.

_We're doing this for fun,_ he thought._ And they already know everything about me._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

"There is no need to be frustrated, Avatar Aang, sometimes it takes many days for the dousing to work," the elderly woman said, attempting a soothing tone of voice.

Aang's face was pale and hard, the dousing fire casting menacing shadows over his features. Katara watched the old fortune teller continue her process silently. Over these past few months, Aang has gotten more impatient. Perhaps it was Bumi's violent death, or maybe his attitude finally caught up with his age. Whatever the reason, he would go into a melancholy state where he wouldn't let anyone into his tent, or he would simply refuse to speak, glaring at anyone who attempted to make conversation with him. Other than that, he had little emotion, joking half-heartedly, or sitting, blatantly absentminded.

Now he clenched his hands into fists, standing ridged in his spot by the fire. Katara watched him uneasily, afraid -as she had recently started being- of him going out of control. _But that's ridiculous, _she thought. _That wouldn't happen. Aang's not like that, he has more self-control. _ But as she watched his scowl grow more bitter with every slow, trembling movement the fortune teller made, her reassurances began to sound faint.

Sokka and Suki stood hand-in-hand as usual, next to Toph who had labeled the situation "stupid" multiple times before curling up and falling asleep on the ground. Appa snored great, rumbling snores far off behind the fortune teller's farmhouse.

Suddenly the fortune teller's head jerked back. Her small, delicate frame became still. Her hands that had been hovering over the fire, "dousing", shook. One hand drifted in Aang's direction, and the fortune teller pointed one boney finger directly at him.

Aang's already pallid complexion seemed to frost over. His eyes lost their blistering frustration, and suddenly became cold and vacant. The fortune teller opened her mouth, her eyebrows raised into the scraggly hair hanging in front of her forehead. She made a hoarse noise in the back of her throat and fell towards Aang. He grabbed her by the shoulders, supporting her as she continued pointing at him, saying-

"_YOU. It's…you. You will never be you until you remember. Remember the fire; you must remember the fire and the water. The fire in the water. She would remember, oh yes, she would, if only she were here." _ Aang looked terrified by the woman's words. He looked as if he were very close to dropping her now-convulsing body; he wasn't even looking at her now. Sokka took action, pulling the woman up by her forearms. She shook him off, sinking to the ground, covering her face with her hands.

Katara rushed to Aang, who couldn't seem to find his voice. He took a breath, dropping to his knees. Something in his slate-grey eyes broke loose, and he was gasping for breath.

**Aang's POV**

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a hurricane raged. A hurricane of terrible things like memories and emotions that I can't recall. I felt Katara clutching my arm, shouting for me to listen to her, asking what the old woman had said, and I saw a blurry image of the old woman on the ground, rocking back and forth.

I couldn't feel these outside things as much as I could feel what was going on in my head. Noises rang out as clear as if they were real. Where had these words come from? I've never heard these sounds before.

An image rose in the storm clouds of memories. A man. Dark and terrible, he loomed over a figure crumpled on the ground. The figure… was….I couldn't see, but maybe it was…me. This man had something in his hands (a sword?), and he was staring, no, _glaring _at my limp form, helpless and pathetic. He raised the sword high above his head, plunging it into the cluster of shadows at his feet. My stomach flopped.

I could feel my physical body sway to the side, then topple over. I was completely in my head.

The man looked furious. He didn't stop jabbing my body on the ground until I was screaming and arching my back in pain. I could feel the pain even though I was watching. It was like the sword was burning through my body and into my very soul, killing that, too.

As the image crept closer, I could see my expression –drenched in sweat, I clenched my jaw, lips parting in a snarl that resembled an animal's. Suddenly my eyes were open, pupils dilated to the point of complete darkness throughout the iris.

My hand shot up, snake-like, wrenching the sword from the man. The tyrant jumped back in shock, drawing another sword –this one slimmer- from a sheath beneath his robes. The man and I engaged in a deadly game of tag, whoever dies last wins.

I was doing fairly well, especially considering my left hand was clutching my side, which was bleeding heavily. All of the sudden, I dropped to my knees, my shoulders sagging in defeat as I bent my head over my wounds.

The man took advantage of my weak state, taking one lithe stride towards me. He once again raised the sword above his head, preparing to take one last-

Before the man could move another inch, his face froze in shock. He looked uncharacteristically baffled, and then he looked blank, dead. Because he was.

Protruding from his elaborate, dark colored robes was the glinting, narrow end of a dagger. The dagger disappeared, and the man fell, the sword falling from his hands.

I –in my strange, vision self- looked in awe at the person standing over the dead man's body. This person was lean and wiry, wearing almost as elaborate clothing as the other guy had. The clothes were familiar to me somehow, and I realized that this was because the time this vision is set in was my time, before the iceberg incident. His hair, dark as the night around him, covered his face as he looked down at the corpse at his feet. Something in my mind stirred. What is this exactly? What am I seeing? The man nudged the dead body with his foot, taking a look at his dagger. Suddenly the feeling of de ja vu hit me harder than one of Toph's exercises. This wasn't a vision, it was a _memory_. When my dream/memory self breathed a sigh of relief, the young man looked up, and I recognized him.

He was…me.


End file.
